When It Rains
by 3xy
Summary: As Buffy and Spike patrol, it suddenly rains, leading them to the vampire's crypt all wet and... well, wet.
1. Escape

**When it Rains**

**Chapter 1: Escape**

* * *

So it has come to this: walking in a cemetery with her former enemy beside her. If she didn't know better, she would have thought that she got resurrected in the wrong dimension. But maybe she had just completely lost it, having been pulled out of heaven. Either way, she was in the deepest, darkest of holes.

Her friends don't know it yet, but she had started digging away from them the moment she dug herself out of her grave. How could they possibly think that she was in hell after all the times she saved them and the world? She gave up her life, for pete's sake.

But they didn't need to know how she felt, what she was going through, what she has lost… And they shouldn't. It was enough that she was able to tell someone, even if that someone happened to be Spike.

A droplet of cold liquid fell on her cheek and broke her out of her deep thoughts. She looked up at Spike to see if it was a drop of his saliva since he had not stopped talking the minute they bumped into each other. She saw him, looking wistfully up at the night sky. Her wonder was followed by a shriek when it suddenly started pouring rain.

"My crypt!" Spike hurriedly said, pushing the slayer to the direction of his crypt.

As near as it was, it wasn't near enough to save them from being soaked wet from the hard downpour of the rain.

"Great. Just great," Spike grumbled, shrugging his leather duster off and shaking the beads of water off it when they arrived at his crypt.

She glared at him as she watched him shake his head in disapproval. "You're complaining? You had a duster on and you're a vampire. You don't get cold or sick."

"Yeah but it'll leave water stains." He turned to her and noticed that she was slightly shivering. "Cold, love?" He tried desperately not to draw his eyes onto her pert nipples that showed through the thin fabric of her top but to no avail.

Buffy cursed herself inwardly for not having worn a bra that night. She quickly wrapped her arms around herself, more for cover than for warmth. Spike still bore his eyes onto her, taking in how much more ravishing she was with wet clothes, wet hair, and beads of water trickling down her body. His thoughts flooded him with images of all the things he wanted to do to her right then and there, making his cock twitch in anticipation.

"Uh…" But it wasn't right. After everything she had been through, the last thing she needed was someone lusting over her. "I could let you borrow one of my shirts if you want."

"That'd be nice. Thanks," she barely whispered, still recovering from the breath-taking sight before her. His wet black fitted shirt outlined every crook of his chiseled body; his drenched black pants clung to his thighs and more importantly, his bulge; his hair tousled in the most adorable of ways…

He stood a good arm's length from her, clutching his coat in front of him to cover his hardening shaft. He then stretched out his arm as far as he could to hand her one of his favorite red button-up shirts.

"Thanks." She smiled and he nodded, averting his eyes from her face.

He quickly turned his back to her and walked towards the sarcophagus and busied himself with the dry shirt he planned to change in to. "I won't look." He really didn't plan to. Every single fucking thing was too much already. What more if he saw her naked? He closed his eyes as he tried to shake off the images from his head.

She fidgeted with the shirt for a while and then turned around. She slowly pulled her top off, casting glances at Spike who seemed to be counting off or something, and then wished he would at least sneak a peak. But he didn't. Throwing her top on the floor almost bitterly, she then slipped on Spike's red shirt. Shivers ran through her as her lungs filled with the scent of smoke, alcohol and of sweet, sweet Spike. "All done," she mumbled, although she was still half way through buttoning up the shirt.

He slowly and unsurely turned around, his eyes involuntarily landing on the patch of skin between her obviously supple breasts peeking through as she continued to button his shirt. _I'm never washing that shirt._ He quickly drew his eyes up to her face.

She saw it. She saw how his eyes darkened with desire at the sight of her exposed flesh. She dragged the door ajar and peeked out. "It's still raining." She turned back to him and pulled her dripping wet hair loose from the ponytail she wore, making her look like she had just finished taking a bath. Spike's cock twitched once more, fully hardening it. God, did she know how much she was torturing him? "Is it alright if I stay here for a while?"

_That would be one of the longest whiles of my entire existence._ "Yeah. Make yourself at home." He smiled sweetly at her despite finding it hard to control himself from devouring her. He then lifted his wet shirt up to change, exposing his alabaster chest. Buffy whimpered when she almost melted from the heat that echoed from between her thighs to the rest of her body.

Spike stopped midway and pulled his shirt back down. Was it possible? Did he just smell what he thought he smelled?

He did.

A large lump formed in Buffy's throat from the stare of amazement Spike gave her. He smelled it. She swallowed hard and involuntarily licked her lips to quench her parched body, even though she was still practically wet from the rain. "I…" Excuses ran through her mind like crazy and she found it difficult to choose one.

Not a second longer, he had pinned her to the door, hands on either side of her head and body so close that she could feel his desire for her.

She trembled again, neither from the coldness of the door nor from the coldness of the water that dripped from her hair to Spike's now wet red shirt, but from the said vampire's nearness. Her heart raced so fast that it felt like it was about to break out of her chest and onto Spike's cool yet warm hands so that he could crush it into putty.

At the wonderful sounds of her ragged breaths and of her rapidly thumping heart, he lost all control and pressed himself onto her water-soaked jean-clad mound. "Oh God…" She gasped and moaned at the feel of him grinding into her.

"God has nothing to do with it," he let out in a low, husky voice that only worsened her craving for him. And before she could snap back, he crashed his lips onto hers; drowning away the terrifying noises of the storm.

_And when it rains, will you always find an escape?_

* * *

**TBC...**

**A/N: Review, please?**


	2. Mean It

**When It Rains**

A/N: So... this was supposed to be my first attempt at smut but I already attempted smut for Something Borrowed. So this is my second attempt at smut. Hope it goes better. :D Thank you to dragonflylady over at Spuffy Realm who beta'd this for me in less than two hours!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"God has nothing to do with it," Spike let out in a low, husky voice that only worsened her craving for him. _'God has nothing to do with it'? Could he be any cheesier?_ Buffy wanted to make fun of him, laugh, or do anything other than melt into putty from the feel of his erection rubbing against her heated mound. But before she could snap back, he crashed his lips onto hers; drowning away the terrifying noises of the storm.

His tongue lazed over her bottom lip, the same lip that had drawn his attention during Willow's Thy-Will-Be-Done spell. He begged her to let him taste how sweet she was, begged her to let him in, let him console her, let him take her out of the misery, make her forget. And she complied willingly, finding it hard to resist Spike's gentle, lingering kiss.

If she had known how incredibly amazing it felt to kiss Spike, she would have done it sooner. Like the first time she saw him at the alley by the Bronze, with his scrumptious British accented voice.

She fought for dominance and slipped her tongue in to explore his mouth. He cupped one of her breasts with his hand, brushed his thumb over her pert nipple and broke off the searing kiss. Buffy began to whimper, but her whimper turned into a breathy moan when Spike caught her erect nipple with his teeth through the thin, soaked fabric of his shirt which she was wearing. He straightened back up to face her with lust-clouded eyes. "Do you want this, Buffy? Do you want _me_? Tell me you want me." He snaked his arm around her waist, skimming her ass with his hand before pulling her further into him, making her feel how much he wanted her.

Saying "Guh," was all Buffy could do. That and arching into him and cursing the layer of clothes that was still between her and elation.

Spike chuckled deep in his throat and murmured, "That won't do, kitten." He snapped the button of her jeans open and slid them down slowly, grazing her skin with his cool fingers, and then bunching her jeans at her ankles. He stood back up, and took her mouth again for another passionate kiss.

Buffy fumbled with Spike's button-fly pants, not pulling away even for a second from the softest, most scorching kiss she'd ever had. Spike's groin tightened even more as Buffy's hand grazed over his length when she pulled his pants down.

As much as Buffy tried to ignore her light-headedness, balance became an issue. She gripped his arms, her nails biting into his skin, for support as she tried to foot her shoes and jeans off.

Spike ground harder into Buffy at the feel of her warm fingers on his cool skin, eliciting a helpless moan from her. He moved lazily onto her jaw line, tracing it, before doing one long lick at her neck. "Spike, please…" she pleaded.

"Please what?" He flicked her ear lobe with his tongue and ripped her panties off in one swift movement. He then teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, brushing it over her slick folds, while he locked his eyes with hers.

"Spike…" Buffy murmured breathlessly.

"Yes, pet?" He teased, smoothing a digit over her wetness, and watched her eyes darken more and more with desire.

She arched onto his finger and groaned when he immediately darted his hand away. "Damn it, Spike! I want you! Now!" She grabbed his ass and tried to pull him to her, but he resisted.

"Now?"

"Spike! Now!"

"Not yet," Spike whispered, eyes closed as he calmed down to stop himself from sliding his cock inside and pounding into her mercilessly.

He ripped apart the shirt she was wearing and slowly moved his eyes toward the succulent peaks he'd longed for so long. He stared at her for a brief moment as he took in what was happening: Buffy was standing naked in his crypt.

Her breasts called for him as they moved up and down from Buffy's panting and as drops of water from her hair slithered over them. "We have to dry you up," he murmured and then licked the underside of her peaks, his tongue then tracing its way up to suck at her nipples. She moaned, gasped, reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged at it. She wanted to feel his chest, wanted to caress it, wanted to taste it.

He let go of her peak and lifted his shirt off, showing her his chiseled body which she'd only caught a glimpse of earlier. But before she could fully absorb and memorize how _amazingly gorgeous_ Spike looked naked, he flipped her over to face the door, trapping her still between the cold door and his cold body. He ran his hands down her arms and then took her hands and pinned them on the door with his left hand. He then nudged her legs apart and used his right hand to slide his erection over her core again and again and again…

Buffy was so close. "Inside…!" Gasp. "Now…!" Another gasp.

He obeyed. He seated his cock inside her and slipped it out quickly and fully, a smug smirk on his face. "Like that?"

Buffy couldn't take it anymore. She jerked her hands away from his tight grasp and used them to push herself off the door. They stumbled backwards, Spike falling flat on the floor with a loud 'thud!' and Buffy falling on top of him, her back still facing him.

Buffy moved her legs to either side of Spike's legs and straddled him. She closed her eyes and held her breath as she slowly lowered herself on Spike's erect member, savoring the feel of him filling her inch by agonizing inch. She then hoisted herself up slowly too, feeling her inner walls expand as Spike's cock abandoned them.

"Fuck… Buffy…" Spike groaned at Buffy's extremely slow pace, his eyes glazing over from the sensations.

He sat up, wound his arms around her torso and cupped her breasts, flicking and pinching her nipples. She arched back into him, continuing still with her excruciatingly slow pace, and rested her temple at the side of his cheek, her mouth forming a little 'o'. He nibbled on and whispered to her ear, "You're mine, Buffy."

Spike almost wanted to bite her and claim her as his. But Buffy didn't need that and most probably wouldn't want that. She needed this, needed the release, and he could give it to her with no strings attached, he could give it to her because he loved her.

Buffy almost wanted to answer that she was, in fact, his. She always has been.

Almost.

Spike moved forward, making Buffy lie flat on her taut stomach on the cold concrete floor of the crypt. She hissed from the coldness but soon forgot about it as Spike pounded into her. She pushed back into him to meet his hard thrusts, seating him deeper inside of her. She wanted something to hold on to as she felt her orgasm building up from his fast pace.

But he suddenly stopped.

She started to crane her neck back to face him, but stopped when he flipped her over and lowered himself to invade her hot mouth again. He began to rock against her hips again, groaning and moaning at the same time as Buffy did. Buffy instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into her. Spike slid his hand from her knee up to her trembling, sweat-coated thigh, and then inserted a finger into her other opening.

"Oh GOD," Buffy gasped at how full she felt then, getting her closer to one heck of an orgasm.

Spike continued to thrust frantically hard into her, mimicking his actions with his finger at her anus. He was so close. "I love you so much… Love you…" he repeated over and over.

"Spike!" Buffy cried out from sheer ecstasy, her muscles clenching his length, milking him of his seeds as the expression on her face pushed Spike over the edge too.

Spike panted and rolled off her to lie beside her on the cold crypt floor. He didn't touch her or dare look at her because he knew that she'd be gone in a second.

Pure shock and bliss swept across Spike's face when he felt Buffy's hand on his arm. She moved his arm under her neck as she rested her head on his shoulder and giggled, "Next time, we should do that on a bed."

**THE END**


End file.
